And the wife, resenting, answered
(For the worm will turn, you know):
"If you would but give up horses
And a score of clubs or so,
To devote more time to business—
When to buy and what to stake—
Then, perhaps, you might make money,
Such as father used to make."
There! I'm greatly relieved now that I've got that song off my mind. I was afraid I might break down, because it's so touching.
Talking of relief, puts me in mind of a friend of mine who wanted to be relieved, in the worst way, of a barrel of over-ripe sauerkraut. When I heard his tale of woe, I laughed so that I had to go and buy a new pair of suspenders.
You see, he had a German friend who had the kraut and didn't know what to do with it, so he offered to send it home to my friend Jenkins. Jenkins accepted and stored it in his cellar.
The next day, the fellow upstairs, named McCarthy, came down and raised thunder with his wife. When Jenkins came home he heard all about it. He went upstairs and saw the offender.
"Say," says he, "I understand you object to the smell down in my cellar."
"No," says McCarthy, "I don't object to it down there, but when it opens the cellar door and creeps upstairs I do object. It kept me awake all last night."
"Well," said Jenkins, "I'll put it out in the yard behind the dog house."